Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
R afe woke up in human form, every muscle pulsing with a slow, languid ache. His mouth watered, gagging on the burnt-toast aftertaste of magic and fae blood. It was like licking the inside of a dirty oven sprayed with air freshener.
Reluctantly, Rafe opened his eyes. He was greeted by walls and a dim overhead light—a bare bulb caged and recessed into the ceiling. He sat up slowly, half-expecting restraints. There were none, but one side of the room held a steel door. He was in a cell. Alone.
It didn’t surprise him that they’d separated him and Izetta, but a sick worry gelled in his gut. Vampires—who inspired much fear and little compassion—did not fare well as prisoners. More often than not, they starved or became a science experiment.
Rafe rolled to his feet, stumbling as his muscles got over being knocked out cold. Shifters normally healed when they changed, but the spell that brought him down wasn’t a normal injury. His back felt like trolls had been line dancing along his spine.
Then he started to shiver. He was naked—he’d shed his clothes before shifting in the kitchen—and the cell was frigid. Fortunately, someone had dumped his abandoned garments in the corner.
He dressed as fast as he could, hopping as he pulled on his socks. His pockets were empty. Someone had taken everything—from his wallet and phone to the ointment that protected him from fae illusions. They’d even taken his snack pack of beef jerky. That was just petty.
As he dressed, his predicament sank in yet deeper. He was alone and imprisoned in fae territory—just one more wolf who had disappeared in this valley. He looked around at the blank walls, realizing they weren’t concrete but some sort of iron-hard wood. Exactly what was this place?
A cold fist gripped his gut, making his heart pound and his breath go shallow. Rafe leaned against the wall, allowing the fear to pass through his flesh like the insubstantial thing it was. He didn’t do cages well—not one bit—but right now, he had no choice but to cope. He sucked in air, held it, and let it go slowly, willing his pulse to slow. He had to think. He had to live, escape, and crush the vermin who was preying on his pack.
He’d had rough missions before this. He’d been captured before. He’d get out of trouble, like he always did.
Come home , his father, the Devries Alpha, had said. The words came first in a text message and then by phone when Rafe ignored them. The pack needs you. I need you. We’re losing our people. Soon, there won’t be enough strong wolves to hunt .
It was the first time his father had ever asked him for help. Hell, it was the first time he’d hinted Rafe might be worth something. Until then, it had been plain neither of them saw Rafe as anything but a misfit. He’d been trouble, a fighter, challenging every rule until he’d finally run away to the Silent Wolves, a shifter-run group of special operatives.
But he was still pack, and he’d finally agreed. Maybe, after all, it was possible to come home and make a life within the pack. Maybe, just maybe—if he could find the Magician and tear out his throat. That was a trophy not even his father could deny.
Rafe began circling the room, examining every inch of the bare, blank walls. There was no furniture, no fixtures, not even a bucket. The only exit beyond the actual door was a floor drain with minuscule holes. A garter snake might get out that way, but not a wolf.
He jumped when a series of beeps broke the silence, then a motor hummed. The top half of the door slid sideways into the wall, revealing a set of heavy vertical bars. On the other side of the bars stood the female fae, a furrow between her pale brows.
He’d pegged the male fae as the ringleader, but the level look in the female’s eyes said she was no pushover. So did the confident set of her shoulders. She was arrogant, like all the fae.
Anger rose. She’d knocked him out cold. He could still feel a strange numbness in his limbs.
Beneath his temper, the icy hand of fear fingered the spot between his shoulder blades. A wolf could face bullets, but magic was something else. He couldn’t bite a spell.
Rafe drew himself up and folded his arms, pretending a nonchalance he didn’t feel. He had a thousand questions—about Izetta, about his own fate—but he knew better than to blurt them out. He would let the fae show her cards first. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice tight.
“Rafe.” He took a slow step closer, studying her features. The delicate, slanting arch of her brows. The gentle point of her ears, all but hidden by her thick white-gold hair. Despite all that had happened, her beauty still drew him, but that meant nothing. She’d proven she was dangerous. “And who are you?”
“I’m the one asking the questions.”
“Your companion called you Lila. Is that your name?”
She ignored his query. “Why did you come to this house, Rafe? ”
The sound of his name on her lips sounded strange. She was an immortal creature of enchantment, not an earthbound beast like him. He was practical, a warrior, and that meant boundaries, discipline, and sticking with facts.
He didn’t have time to answer before she leaned closer, spots of color staining her cheeks. “What makes you think you can harm my brother and live?”
Her brother? Not her mate? Either way, the creature had left a foul taste in his mouth. Rafe met the fae’s eyes and glared right back. “He struck first.”
The moment in the kitchen had been simple. The brother lashed out. Izetta flailed like a storm-tossed crow, smashing to the floor. Instinct demanded Rafe protect his own, so he’d bitten the fool.
The crunch of bone still lingered like a vibration inside his skull.
“I’m sure he’ll get over it,” Rafe said with a shrug.
Her eyes widened, as if seeing all the ways she would destroy him. If she hadn’t proven so capable, he might have been amused.
“Fae are immortal, not indestructible,” she said softly. “You’re a monster.”
Rafe’s pulse jumped. So that bite had put one enemy on the sidelines. Lila—if that was indeed her name—had made a beginner’s mistake by letting him know that. A real Alpha would have kept that to themselves. She was dangerous, but she was an amateur in the chess match of power.
“So, are you in charge now?” he asked.
Her chin jutted forward. “I’m the problem in front of you. Concentrate on that.”
Now that was a good answer, one he might have used. “So you are.”
“Just tell me why you’re here.” She folded her arms, mirroring his stance.“The whole world knows better than to encroach on the fae. Why put yourself at our mercy? ”
“I have my reasons.”
“Are you a thief?”
“No.”
She huffed in disbelief. “What about your friend, the vampire? What’s her role here?”
“The ways of the Undead are inscrutable.” Worry twisted in his chest. He wanted to ask about Izetta’s condition, but then the fae would use her as leverage, putting them both worse off than before. He had to trust his friend’s talent for survival.
Lila regarded him as if he were a faintly annoying bug. “Start talking, wolf.”
Her chill tone roused his temper. It said he was no better than the slime in the prison floor drain, but then that was how light fae talked to the rest of the world. They kept aloof from other supernatural races, as if mortality were a nasty social disease.
A flash of bitterness seared through him, acid in his blood—but he kept his face neutral. “How many have you killed before me?”
For an instant, she looked taken aback. She hid the emotion quickly, but not fast enough. “What are you talking about?”
“My kin.” There was no advantage in hiding this particular truth. “They came into this valley and never returned. The vampire is helping me search for them.”
Lila took a step back from the bars, as if his words had physically pushed her. “What makes you think they came to this house?”
“It’s the only building around here.”
“That’s your reason for breaking in?” She waved a hand. “Because we are here?”
He lifted a brow. “I know my people were in these woods. I’m an expert tracker.”
The Silent Wolves were specialists, working alone or embedded in a human unit. A trained operative could follow their mark across any terrain—snow or sand, jungle or forest. Over the last decade, he’d been deployed to them all.
But he wasn’t about to advertise his combat experience to the fae. He’d already proven himself a threat, and scary wolves ended up as throw rugs.
Silence fell between them for a moment. Her scent tugged at him, reminding him of woodlands where the soft moss cooled his paws. There was something floral in it. Lily of the valley?
He jerked himself back to the confines of the cell, reminding himself that she was the enemy, a mistress of glamour and illusion, not to be trusted. The walls felt heavy again, as if they were crushing his lungs.
She was frowning at him, still angry but clearly curious. “Are you sure other wolves came here? Why would they do that?”
He took another step closer, moving so slowly she didn’t seem to notice. “They were hunting a criminal. They were good trackers, but not as good as me.”
A shadow passed over her—not just her features, but her entire being, as if some inner light had dimmed. “Who were they hunting? I want a name.”
Rafe took that flicker of doubt as an admission. She knew who he was looking for, or she suspected something. He debated how much to tell her. “I don’t have a name.”
Doubt flickered in her eyes. “You went to a lot of effort to break into our property. That’s a big risk for a nameless villain.”
“Maybe.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Who sent you?”
“Pack.”
She curled her fingers around the bars. “Even though all the wolves who came here disappeared? Are you that much better or just that much easier to throw away?”
Something deep inside him flinched. “Maybe both.”
Her jaw hardened. “The fae are patient. We have all the time in the world, and you aren’t going anywhere. Sooner or later, one of you will give me real answers.”
His stomach twisted, the old terror of confinement closing in. She began to pull away, but he caught her hand before she let go of the bars. Her skin was cool beneath his. “You can’t cage me. You’ve got to let us go. All of us wolves, and my vampire friend.”
She snatched her hand away. “We don’t kidnap random strangers.”
“Then what is this prison for?” Rafe gave the walls a casual wave. “This isn’t a wine cellar, and I’m not merlot.”
Lila shook her head. “You’re not the victim here. There’s no coming back from what you’ve done.”
Heat rose with his wrath, prickling his skin. When he spoke, his voice dropped to a growl. “You can’t cage me, Lila.”
She tensed. “I already have.”
He’d let the beast slip out, and that breach of discipline was a costly mistake. She reached sideways to something he couldn’t see. Then he heard the multi-toned beeping of a keypad. Panic seized him, drowning him like a deadly wave.
“Lila,” he cried. “Hear me out!”
He slipped his hand between the bars to touch her sleeve, but she dodged away. “Stay away from me, or you’ll lose that paw.”
A steel plate slid across the bars from left to right.
“Wait!” He lunged, trying to stop the plate with his hand, but the metal edge dug deep. The mechanism coughed out a grinding noise, and he had to let go. “Lila!”
He barely pulled his hand inside before the panel clanged shut, blocking her from view.
“Lila?” he called, but the only answer was the echo of his voice against bare walls.
He was trapped.